NCIS: Vignettes
by TnJAGAz
Summary: These stories run the gamut of emotions and are 'between the episodes' tales.  Includes 'A Long Journey', 'Baja Hiatus', 'Writer's Block', 'Do Superheroes Cry', 'A Day of Reckoning', 'Promises to Keep', and more.   Ably beta'd by Laura, Janlaw, and Karen.
1. Chapter 1  A Long Journey

Title: "A Long Journey"

Author: TxNCISTn  
>Rating: GPG [some language, violence, etc.]  
>Classification: Remembrance and teeny bit of angst – Gibbs and Todd<p>

Spoilers: Enigma and Silver War. Also anything from Season 3.  
>Summary: A vignette about what one thinks about after the death of close co-worker or friend. Don't know if there is Rule #27, but it sounded good.<p>

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of NCIS fans only. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

Rule Twenty-Seven: 'When all else fails, get some rest.'

Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked at the clock by his radio. It was three twenty-seven in the morning. It was obvious he wasn't getting anywhere with this piece he was sanding. It obviously was seriously warped. Or maybe he was. He picked up his coffee cup. Empty. He reached over for his flask to refill the cup. Empty as well. Damn.

The silver haired former Gunnery Sergeant sighed and looked at the warped piece of wood. Not going to fit….was the terse analytical result he came back with.

He thought back to what Israeli liaison Ziva David had told him when he found her in Kate's chair earlier this evening.

"She's gone Gibbs."

That comment had echoed around in his mind as he looked through Kate's sketchbook after Ziva had handed it to him.

A picture of Tony – sunglasses on, leaning back in his chair a wicked smile on his face

Typical….

A sketch of Abby wearing one of her Goth office get-ups

The solid lines of Tim McGee's youthful, unsure face.

The quiet confidence and gentility of Dr. Donald Mallard

And the stoic features of himself staring back at him. Silent. Resolute.

There were other sketches in the book, most from the two years she had worked at NCIS, but there were a few that made him feel his service years. 21 of them to be exact. It had taken that whole flask of whiskey and sanding of the hull ribs of his ship before he was able to bury the hurt of losing another agent in the line of duty. It never got any easier, but she had been so young, so eager to prove herself.

Damn.

This wasn't accomplishing anything. He sighed and scrubbed his hand across the stubble on this face.

"Time for bed," he said to no one in particular.

At least he didn't see Kate anymore. That was small consolation for how he felt right now. After he fumbled with the light switch, he climbed the stairs out of the cellar of his house and headed up to the bathroom to clean up before bed.

It seemed he drifted off as soon as he hit the pillow. That was good. He hated lying in bed, pondering what tomorrow would bring. He had done a lot of that lately, too much, really.

Dreams are funny things. Sometimes they warn you of danger. Sometimes they tell in their own obtuse language, about the future, other times they are the inspiration for novels, poems or great works of art. Sometimes they replay old fears or present new terrors. Sometimes they merely entertain. And sometimes they do something else.

Gibbs was walking into the bullpen area of MTAC. He had a large cup of his favorite brew in his hand. Though the sun was shining brightly through the windows, it was still early. He just might catch Tony napping at his desk.

Instead, he came face to face with Kaitlin Todd. Alive.

"Kate?" Was all he was able to get out of his surprised mouth.

"I'm all right, Gibbs," she said reassuringly looking at him with those big brown eyes of hers - without that ugly third hole that had been marring her features lately.

"Kate, I'm so sorry…." he began to say, the words tumbling out of his mouth with uncharacteristic sadness.

"It's all right, Gibbs, I'm gonna be okay." Again her voice was reassuring. Confident.

She looked up at him. "Do you mind?" she asked indicating she wanted his cup.

"Uh sure," he said slowly, still stunned by seeing her alive.

She took a long drink from the cup and then handed it back to him.

"I've always wanted to do that," she said teasingly.

"How?" was the only word that made it from his lips.

"I've got my new orders," she said quietly, "I've been transferred…."

"Transferred?" He was totally at a loss now. "Transferred where? "Who authorized this?"

This wasn't fair. She was alive again. Who had the right to transfer her from his team? Now he was getting angry.

"Gibbs…Jethro," she looked into his eyes. "It's all right, Gibbs." She said again. So confident. So sure of herself.

She started to walk away from him.

He couldn't let her go like that. He started after her, when a hand stopped him.

"She'll be okay." The voice was calming. Non-threatening.

"Where is she going?" He had to ask. He had to know.

"On a long journey."

In his mind's eye he could see it all. To visit all her friends and family, both alive and dead. To all those places she always wanted to go, do all those things she always wanted to do, have all her questions answered. See the secrets of the universe.

Then he saw who was leading her. The friend and mentor he had seen in so many nightmares. But this time, he too was uninjured, not pleading for his life. Lieutenant David Cameron gave Gibbs a knowing smile.

"She'll be waiting, Gibbs. For all of you. When the time is right."

And with that, the dream faded. Like so many dreams.

But as it did, he knew something about this dream was special. She was going to be all right. She didn't blame him or any of them.

Though her body had been buried in a grave with full honors, she was going to be all right. And she was finally free.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs woke up before his alarm went off and looked around. He was in his bed, in his room. Despite what logic told him, he somehow knew this dream was different. This was not the mind recycling the recent events or an illusion brought on by a drunken stupor.

Kate was going to be fine. And so was he.

- Fini


	2. Chapter 2  Baja Hiatus

Title: Baja Hiatus 

Author: txnicstn

Email:  
>Rating: GPG [some language, violence, etc.]  
>Classification:<p>

Spoilers: Hiatus specifically, but anything from Seasons 1-3 just to be safe  
>Summary and Author Notes: A vignette regarding Gibbs leaving NCIS and how this might be resolved. For the purposes of this story, Gibbs is in Baja. Call it writer's license. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.<p>

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of NCIS fans only. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

Somewhere in Mexico…

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was lying in the rope hammock, lazily swinging back and forth in the tropical breeze. He did this while nursing his Jack Daniels filled coffee cup. It wasn't even close to ten in the morning, but Gibbs was already on his third cup of Jack.

But he didn't have to worry about alcohol numbing his brain. He wasn't going to work anytime soon.

That thought made him smile. No bizarre cases to solve, he didn't have to worry about running into Jen. No more dealing with DiNozzo or trying to figure out what Ziva David was going to do next.

Yeah, no more of that.

But then he wouldn't see Abby or Ducky anymore. No more arcane stories from Dr. Mallard's past. He wouldn't see Abby's perky smile anymore either, or hear her farting Hippo, whatever its name was.

He wondered if Tim McGee was going to make it.

Sure he would, he told himself. He has Tony there to guide him. Tony may be smug and a little self-serving, but he'll a great teacher for the Probie. And just maybe Tony will 'grow up'.

Nah, he snorted as he turned on his side. But he'll do just fine….

Then Jenny Shepard's anguished face swam into his vision again. She couldn't believe he was doing this. Not Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS Senior lead agent. Gibbs would never quit.

But that jerk in the CNO's office made it clear what he thought of Gibbs' opinion. A Marine and Navy boarding party along with the entire crew of that pre-positioning ship paid the price.

So to hell with them. To hell with them all.

"How are you doing this morning Gibbs?" Mike Franks, former NIS Agent and Gibbs mentor settled down on a stump beside the hammock.

"Can't complain," Gibbs lied as he turned toward his mentor and friend, "Where's Camila this morning?"

Mike gave the silver haired man a sleep tinged smile. "She went down to the market an hour ago. Didn't you see her waving goodbye as she left?"

"I must've missed her," he said by way of an excuse, "I really get into laying out in this thing in the morning."

Mike gave him knowing look. "Yeah, sure."

Gibbs was aggravated that his former boss saw through his ruse, but didn't pursue it. Instead, he opted to change the subject.

"When do you want to head down to the bait shop?"

Mike Franks stood up, looking down the beach toward the harbor inlet and the bait shop/bar. "Let's wait until Camila gets back."

"You're the boss, boss." Gibbs said with a tipsy smile, raising the cup to the man.

Mike turned and walked back over to the hammock, "Not anymore I'm not, Probie."

Both men laughed at their private joke.

"I'll come get you when Camila gets back," said Franks as he headed over to the old Chevrolet Impala to see if he could figure out why it wasn't starting.

Walking down to the bait shop was getting to be a pain. And Franks figured that old pickup of his sure wasn't going anywhere anymore.

Gibbs returned to his drink, listening to the waves crash against the sun drenched shoreline.

"How much further Ducky?"

Gibbs could 'see' Dr. Donald Mallard, M.E. up ahead of him on the rocky trail.

"It can't be much further, Jethro. You know, this reminds me of the time I was on a forensic expedition in Borneo…."

"Duck, please, not now…." he heard himself groaning. The backpack he was carrying felt like it weighed 100 tons. He couldn't get the sweat to stop running into his eyes.

"Not now what, Jethro?"

Ducky's voice sounded different. Closer.

"Ducky?"

"I'm right here Jethro; open your eyes."

Gibbs was confused. Part of his mind was still on that rocky mountainous trail. But Ducky was way ahead of him. So how could Ducky sound like he was right next to him?

"Jethro, open your eyes…."

Gibbs felt his shoulder being jostled. He forced his eyes open and saw the fuzzy image of a man sitting on the stump next to his shaded hammock.

"Is Camila back?" Gibbs said. His voice was still thick with sleep. He thought he was talking to Mike.

"Camila? Oh, you mean the young woman staying here with you and former Agent Franks…." That was definitely not Mike. Mike didn't have a British accent.

Gibbs forced his eyes all the way open and was rewarded with a stabbing pain coursing through his skull, but now he could see that Donald Mallard was sitting next to him. The NCIS medical examiner was dressed in worn khakis, a faded blue and gold Hawaiian shirt, and well-worn white sneakers.

"Ducky? What the hell are you doing here?" Gibbs growled as he tried to straighten himself in his hammock.

'Ducky' Mallard smiled at his friend. "Easy Jethro, you don't want to fall out that hammock, you've obviously had a lot to drink this morning…."

"What time is it?" Gibbs asked. He tried to look at his watch but couldn't make out the blurred numbers.

"It's a little after one in the afternoon," Ducky reported. "Judging from the fact that you can't see your watch, I'm guessing you are suffering from a hangover."

Gibbs wasn't in the mood for the M.E.'s, clinical analysis. "Ducky what are you doing here?"

"'Here' as in 'what am I doing here at your humble abode' instead of slaving away at the NCIS morgue?"

"Well, yeah, Duck," Gibbs said, trying to will his headache to go away by pressing on his temples. "Something like that…."

"I decided I needed a change of scenery," Ducky said as if his appearance here was common knowledge.

"Change of scenery? You haven't left your mother alone in six years…." Gibbs said yawning.

"I haven't Jethro; I brought her along."

Gibbs stopped in mid-yawn, as his eyes grew wider. Maybe this was some kind of weird alcohol induced dream. "You did what? You brought her along?" he repeated.

"Why yes Jethro, you didn't expect me to leave her in Washington, now did you?"

He could just imagine what Mrs. Mallard was saying right about now. "Where is she Duck?"

"Oh don't worry Jethro, she's in good hands…."

Gibbs was about to ask him 'What do you mean' when another familiar voice pierced the shore noise.

"Did you find him Ducky?"

"Yes Tony," called out Ducky over the crashing surf, "He's over here in the hammock…."

Gibbs watched as Tony DiNozzo's athletic form walked toward them. Gibbs fought hard not to do a double take as he propelled himself from his hammock.

"DiNozzo? What are you doing here?"

Tony was all smiles as usual. "Hey Boss, good to see you!"

"Don't 'hey Boss' me, DiNozzo! I asked you a question! What…are…you…doing…here?"

He expected Tony to flinch, but this time Special Agent DiNozzo didn't. "Took some time off, Boss," Tony said with his ever present smirk visible. "You know, copping some z's catching some rays…taking it easy for a while."

"Taking it easy?" Gibbs got up right in Tony's face.

"You are the Senior Agent in Charge, DiNozzo! You do not 'take it easy'!"

"Chill, Boss," Tony said, unflustered by Gibbs obvious anger, "Everything's being taken care of…."

"By who?" Gibbs snarled.

It was obvious Tony was becoming unnerved by Gibbs harsh tone. Old habits die hard.

"Easy, Gibbs, don't blow a circuit…."

"Abby?"

"Hiya, Gibbs," said the plucky, Goth, NCIS forensic technician as she made her way to Gibbs' hammock. She looked around at the old rusting vehicles, the venerable mobile home that served as a beach house and the gorgeous view that this location afforded.

"Man, this is such a cool place!"

As Abby ran over to inspect the derelict vehicles, Tony ambled towards the hammock.

Gibbs turned to face Dr. Mallard who was busy staring out at the ocean. "Ducky?"

The NCIS M.E. kept his back to Jethro Gibbs, not even bothering to turn around. "Relax, Jethro, Mr. Palmer is taking care of everything…."

"By himself?" The former Gunnery Sergeant couldn't believe his ears…much less his eyes.

"Yes, Gibbs, don't have a cat," The Mossad liaison said, as she carefully lead an older woman toward the trailer.

"Gracious, is this where Leroy is living now? Ms. Mallard said, obviously befuddled from her long trip. What happened to his boat?"

'Cow', Ziva, that's 'don't have a cow'" Tony said, as he lowered himself into the hammock and closed his eyes.

"Ah, you Americans and your idioms," she grumbled. She turned to Ducky's mother and gently helped her inside the mobile home. "Come on Mrs. Mallard, let's get you inside."

"Thank you dear, you're just as nice as that young woman Kate…. By the way, where is she? Do you smell pigs roasting dear? It smells like a luau…."

The silver haired former NCIS Agent whirled on his lead senior agent and successor. The idea of tossing Tony bodily out of the hammock crossed his mind. However he decided a 'drill sergeant' imitation might yield better results.

DINOZZO! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? Bellowed Gibbs to the sacked out former Baltimore Police Department detective.

Tony DiNozzo had his eyes closed and looked like he was drifting off to sleep. Then his cell phone began chirping. Tony fished it out of his shirt pocket and looked at the digital screen to see who was calling.

He tossed the phone to Gibbs, "It's for you, Boss."

The former NCIS Agent considered again for half a moment upending the hammock and dumping Tony out on his head. But that wouldn't solve anything. He flipped open the phone.

"Gibbs," he snapped.

"Enjoying the beach, Jethro?"

The silver haired former Gunny thought of million snide and snotty things he could say, but instead opted for politeness.

"Good afternoon, Madam Director," he said casually.

If she was thrown by this, she didn't let him know it. "Is Ducky nearby, Jethro? I need to speak with him…."

Gibbs turned and tossed the phone to Ducky. "Director Shephard would like to speak with you."

The NCIS M.E. caught the phone and began speaking. "Ah, Good afternoon, Director Shepard, greetings from Baja…oh yes, we found him snoozing away in a hammock…no he wasn't too drunk…yes, we're all here safe and sound. Yes, I'll give it back to him."

Donald Mallard was also smiling. "She'd like to speak with you again, Jethro."

Gibbs took the phone. Gibbs was so polite butter could have melted in his mouth. "What can I do for you, Madam Director?"

"It's simple really, Jethro. Dr. Mallard and Abby are on leave. Tony and Agent David are providing protective custody.

"From what?" the silver haired former agent wanted to know.

"Ducky witnessed a murder. Pretty messy actually. The guy was a former Marine and swore he'd kill him. I had to put him somewhere as far away from DC as possible."

"So why is Abby here?" The irritation was returning to Gibbs' voice.

"She insisted on going along. I really couldn't stop her…I thought you'd like to help out one more time…for old times' sake."

Gibbs could tell Jenny Shephard was really enjoying this. Well he wasn't going to let her get to him.

Gibbs returned to being polite and tactful. "Madam Director, I've turned in my resignation. I'm retired."

He could hear the smile in her voice as she tried to sound distressed. "I know Mr. Gibbs, and I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but the threat to Dr. Mallard is real and I needed somewhere to hide him."

And his whole entourage?" Gibbs added snidely.

"Yes Jethro, I'm really sorry about this…."

"Jen this is me you're talking to. You're not sorry one bit."

Her tone became hard. "You're right, Mr. Gibbs, I'm not. I needed somewhere to stash Ducky and former Agent Mike Franks said this would be the perfect place to hide him until we made sure it was safe for Dr Mallard to come back."

Gibbs was about lay into Jen.

"Gibbs?"

It was Mike Franks looking somewhat aggravated as he walked towards the former NCIS Agent.

Gibbs cupped his hand over the phone. "Mike, I'm real sorry about this…."

"Sorry about what Gibbs?"

"All these people here…having to watch Ducky."

"All these people? Where's Ducky?"

"He's right over there…."

"Gibbs? Open your eyes…."

Darkness descended around Gibbs. Then he slowly opened his eyes. The bright afternoon sun made him instinctively shield them. He looked up from his hammock to see Mike Franks staring down at him.

"Where's Dr. Mallard?" Mike asked.

"It was a dream." Gibbs mumbled.

"A dream? What kind of dream?"

Gibbs gave his mentor a weary smile. "A weird one." He quickly shifted mental gears. "Say, do you still want to go to the bait shop?"

The former NIS Agent knew better than to probe. "Sure. I've given up on that old truck. Let's take the Impala down there."

Gibbs started to say something when he felt his cell phone vibrate. It hadn't done that in months.

"Just a minute Mike." Gibbs fished his phone out of his pocket.

Gibbs looked at the text display. He was getting better and sending and receiving text messages. He just hoped this wasn't Tony or Jen trying to convince him to come back. He squinted at the liquid crystal display. The words he saw chilled him.

SMTHGS COME UP – CALL ME -DUCKY

Mike understood the look on Gibbs' face. There was trouble back home.

"I can get you to the border crossing in an hour. You can hail a cab from there to the regional airport." Mike said quietly.

"Thanks Boss." As Gibbs got out of the hammock and headed for the mobile home, he mentally began an inventory of the things he'd need for a trip to DC.

- Fini


	3. Chapter 3  Do Superheroes Cry

DO SUPERHEROES CRY?

Author: txncistn

Email:

Rating: G/PG [some language, violence, etc.]

Classification: A tiny bit of Tiva

Spoilers: Anything from Seasons 1-6 but in particular - Legend parts I, II, Semper Fidelis, Aliyah and also Deliverance.

Summary and Author Notes: A vignette about Tony and Ziva with each telling a piece of the story. This is kinda angsty, but given what TPTB gave us for a finale, I had to start somewhere. I do not know if PFC Tomas Tamayo [from Gibbs' past] will ever show up again or the NCIS Probie Agent Dwayne Wilson either, but I liked the characters and this is my story, so…this is what I think happened after we saw our heroine tied to that chair in Somalia. Be warned; we are dealing with two entities who are blood enemies.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of NCIS fans only. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

"Tell me everything you know…about NCIS…."

Ziva looked up at the terrorist who was standing over her. She wished she had her combat knife, anything, to fight back with. Spitting wouldn't work, that's what earned her the blows that swollen her right eye shut. Her team had been wiped out to a man. There would be no rescue and her father, like he had done with so many people, had, no doubt, written her off. Just another asset that had served its purpose and now could be discarded.

She resolved that despite how much that realization hurt, she would not show tears to this…pig.

He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back hard. "Tell me, everything you know about NCIS!"

Ziva smiled for the first time in days…maybe it was all the beatings, maybe it was the sensory deprivation, lack of sleep, no food, poisoning from her wounds…. But something made her wonder what it would be like if Leroy Jethro Gibbs came walking through that door. He'd practically knock the door off its hinges and before this scum knew what was happening, he would shoot him. Yes, a…what is it he calls it? Ah yes, a double-slap, no, a double-tap to the heart!

Mossad Officer David did not feel the blows that were raining down on her. In her mind, Gibbs was pulling at her bonds, telling her everything would be all right…then she had another thought.

Tony…he would be right next to Gibbs 'On your six, Boss' … 'Right behind you, Boss'

Ooo! He was so smug, so arrogant, so….

An image flashed into her mind of her lying on that hotel bed, Tony on top of her...

Then Tony talking to that Doctor telling him he thought he might have Thallium poisoning…just so she could spend a few more minutes with Lt. Roy Sanders….

Tony…Tony…now a new image flashed into her mind. Instead of Gibbs bursting through that door, it was Tony coming through that door, Tony shooting this terrorist…why Tony?

She felt her ulna break, but the shock from that didn't compare with the shock of the realization that Tony…loved her.

Loved her? He killed her childhood friend Michael! How could he love her?

Ziva's mind was a stormy sea that drowned out all the pain and agony; she didn't even feel her body hitting the floor or the terrorist cursing at her and leaving her alone in that room.

But she wasn't alone. Tony was there holding her, telling her it would be okay….

Tony gritted his teeth and braced for the next blow…or at least he tried to…the impact of the fist was more than he expected.

He had never expected that he would be caught so easily…it was like they were waiting for him…. Could Ziva had told them about NCIS and the Major Case Response Team?

Uhh! He had to get loose from this chair! He had to find…Ziva… Ziva was in here…somewhere…he had to find her…she was still alive…he could feel her!

"So, American, are you ready to talk?"

"Well, that depends," Tony said as glibly as he could manage. "What do you want to talk about? Movies? American motion pictures? 'Cause I know a lot about movies…."

The terrorist smiled. "You are a very funny American; like a comedian, no?" The terrorist kicked Tony's chair against the wall bruising his already battered body. "But I am not so easily entertained by the antics of an American infidel who works with a Jewish intelligence officer!"

He said 'works with' not 'worked with', didn't he? That means she's still alive….

Tony smiled, imagining that the plan had actually worked that he had been able to sneak in, and now like Stringfellow Hawk, or like Magnum, he was breaking down the door to her cell…only to find her tying up her captor looking as sleek and fresh as she always did…and that smug, self-satisfied smile on her face. He could hear her now… 'What took you so long, Tony?'

Then a flash of pain jarred him back to the present. 'Where is that kid?' he thought, 'He was supposed to be backing him up….'

Tony could see through the window in his door that there was movement out in the hall….ready…one…two…three! It only took rocking the chair just a hair harder than the taking the punch that hit him in the cheek – and over he went shutting his eyes, but nothing would protect his ears.

Before the terrorist could say anything, the room exploded into a flash of light that Tony could see even with his eyes shut. The bang ruined any chance of hearing what was happening. All that he knew was that it had begun.

Hands, dirty, rough hands grabbed him, and soon they running through darkened hallways then out into the bright sunlight to a waiting helo where he could finally make out PFC Tamayo and Staff Sergeant Medina making sure he was secure. Across from him sat NCIS Agent Dwayne Wilson.

"Good to see you again, DiNozzo!"

"Where's Ziva?" Tony asked looking around.

"Who?" Dwayne was having a hard time hearing above the rotor noise.

"Ziva!" he barked, "Officer David!"

"The Israelis have her! She's fine!" He motioned to the Crew Chief, "We're good to go!"

'Good to go…' it's what Gibbs had said when they were at the airport…ready to leave…without Ziva….

Tony managed to get himself over to the scarred window of the helo. Down below were the slum areas of the Somali city they were leaving. In the distance he could barely make it out, but he could see a large helicopter with a subdued Star of David on its side…Ziva was on board that helo.

The big chopper followed them for a while over the Somali countryside, and then without warning, it veered off to the North…and away from them….

Ziva….

Tony felt his eyes burning, a tear slid silently down his dirty, bloody cheek….

-Fini


	4. Chapter 4  Writer's Block

WRITER'S BLOCK

Title: Writer's Block

Author: txnicstn

Email: 

Rating: G/PG [some language, violence, etc.] 

Classification:

Spoilers: Angel of Death and Cover Story specifically, but anything from Seasons 1-4 just to be safe…. 

Summary and Author Notes: A vignette about Timothy McGee suffering from writer's block and wondering about the past season's events and how might he turn this into something for his stalled novel. Don't know if Tim [sorry, Thom] has found a way out of his writer's block yet for 'Rock Hollow' but for the sake of this story, let's just say he hasn't. Call it writer's license. And no, I *****do not***** have it in for Jenny Shepard. I actually like her very much. But ole Tim had to have someone as a 'fall guy' for his

novel…..

*~* indicates a scene shift.

* indicates where Tim [Thom] is typing

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of NCIS fans only. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

"It was cold and cloudy that day…a cold so sharp….."

"Well, that's certainly crap," Tim said sighing as he ripped the page from his Remington typewriter and dropped it into his shredder. The hungry machine made quick work of the sheet of paper. "Why don't I just add 'it was a dark and stormy night' while I'm at it?"

He leaned over, resting his forehead on the machine, "C'mon Thom," he muttered to himself, eyes closed. "Think…."

It was a week until his completed book was due at the publisher and Tim almost had the manuscript for Rock Hollow, his latest novel, completed. He just had to finish this chapter…

It was approaching two in the morning. Tim turned and looked out the window, hoping for inspiration. The lights of downtown Silver Spring twinkled in the darkness. He felt like he was back at MIT, pulling an all-nighter. Why weren't the words coming?

It had been so easy up to now. Well, that is, if you discount the bump he encountered when he got to Chapter 7. But the case involving Petty Officer Cover and his obsessed- fan-turned-killer Landon Gray had certainly given him a lot to work with.

Despite that boost, here he was yet again, staring at a blank sheet of paper.

He needed…something. He took his meerschaum pipe in hand. Rather than going through the hassle of emptying the pipe, opening his tobacco bag, refilling his pipe, and the rest – he decided to just stick it between his teeth…and think…what would Agent McGregor do at this point?

In his mind he replayed the info he had from the preceding chapter. Tibbs had been acting head of NIS while the Director, the mysterious and feisty Chelsey Bereford, had attended a special Law Enforcement/Anti-Terrorism conference in Madrid. There were rumors that Director Bereford disappeared from the conference to gather information for her vendetta against 'El Cochon', a ruthless terrorist that had murdered her father….

Oh yeah; he made a mental note to include Agents Tommy and Lisa in this chapter. Their relationship was getting ready to take off, he just hadn't figured out how to do this yet.

2:48 a.m. was the readout on his computer's clock. Well, that had killed some time. Now he was starting to cook. Okay. Tibbs, Tommy, and Lisa…now what to do with them….

It was 3:17 a.m. The rumination session with his pipe had given him two pages of what he thought were good pages of this final chapter. His editor would sure let him know if they weren't. Now…he was stuck again. He looked over at his pipe…no, it just wasn't producing like it usually did.

He picked up his coffee cup. Maybe some coffee will help the ole muse, he thought.

He got up and walked over to his kitchen area and pulled the perking carafe off its burner. The aroma of Starr's coffee [it was a good thing they sold this stuff for home use, otherwise he'd need a Starr's that stayed open 24/7] revived him a little. He poured the coffee and then leaned back on his kitchen island counter, thinking about what he had.

"Okay," he said thinking aloud. "Tibbs has a girlfriend…no, two girlfriends. That's good…." He looked down at the picture on the cup and gave it a gentle smile. "Thanks Grandma,"

He walked back to his desk and typewriter, set down his cup, and began typing.

"L.J. Tibbs was faced with a hard decision; should he take a chance with Army CID Officer Colonel Nan…"

Tim's eyes flared as he thought more carefully about his 'burst of inspiration'. He quickly grabbed the paper and tore it out of the typewriter as if it had caught fire. "If Gibbs finds out about this, he'll shoot me," he said morosely.

He hastily dropped the sheet into his handy shredder.

"Sorry Grandma," he said apologetically to the cup, "it was a good idea, but I've already tested the Boss enough this year."

4:30 a.m. Tim had five more pages written. Not bad. Not great, considering his deadline was less than a week a way now, but not too shabby for someone with severe case of writer's block.

"Maybe a cat nap would help," he said pushing his chair away from his desk, standing up and stretching, trying to stifle a yawn. Sometimes a dream would give him the missing pieces he needed and he kept a note pad by his bed to catch those thoughts.

He walked over and flopped down his bed, hands behind his head. He sank into his pillow and with a deep satisfied sigh, closed his eyes, and waited for sleep to come.

Five minutes…Ten minutes...Fifteen minutes...Twenty minutes...Twenty-five minutes….

"Great," he groaned, opening his eyes, "not only do I have writer's block; I also have insomnia as well…"

"Maybe some TV would help," Tim reached for his television's remote. He had recorded "Bones" last night. Abby told him it was a pretty good show, kinda like what Ducky does, but at place called the Jeffersonian Institute. Tim had read some of the Kathy Reich's books and the cases were a lot like theirs.

The show was pretty good, the cast worked well together. It reminded him of how well their team worked, well in sort of dysfunctional family sort of way. Then Tim paused the show. "Cassie?"

He couldn't get over the likeness. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he was watching Cassie Yates, not Doctor Camille Saroyan. He almost wanted to call the Norfolk office just to make sure she was still there...except for the fact it was only five in the morning.

He took the pad and pencil by his bed and scribbled a few notes. Maybe there was something he could do with this. He hit play and watched the rest of the episode.

The sun was about thirty minutes away from its daily appearance. Outside the traffic was starting to pick up, the early risers trying to beat the AM rush.

"So much for sleep." He said getting up from the bed, "well, I might as well give writing another try…."

He sat down at the typewriter. If it could speak, he was sure it probably would have said, 'You again? Didn't you have enough last night?'

Tim scrubbed his hand across his face and shook his head to clear out the cobwebs. He thought again about all that happened recently, the obsessed fan, the run-ins with La Grenouille, Director Shepard's almost obsessive need to capture that arms dealer, and the strange behavior of Tony and Ziva lately…Tony and Ziva…hey, now wait a minute…he stuck a fresh sheet of paper in and began typing.

'Free association' That was word he used to describe it to Tony. Just typing whatever came into his mind. The words seemed to fly from his fingertips and into the keys on the typewriter.

This mad action went on for a about thirty minutes. Then Tim stopped and looked at what he had.

Tommy…Tony…Tony and his girlfriends…Tony and Kate? Tony and Tommy. Tommy…man on a mission…playboy…practical joker…frat boy…Italian stallion…

Then about halfway down the page he found it. This could be the crack in his writer's block.

"Agent Tommy sighed as he looked into Agent Lisa's eyes. 'It's complicated….'

Agent Lisa felt her world shattering…"

"Been done to death," Tim said disgustedly, ripping the sheet of paper off the typewriter's platen.

The sun was beginning to peak over buildings in downtown Silver Spring. Tim was glad he had today off. If he was lucky, he might be about to get this chapter done by…sunset. …nope…that was too optimistic.

Tim had been hunched over his typewriter, pipe clenched in his teeth for nearly an hour, typing furiously. He had reconstructed chapters two and five so now they flowed right into seven. Six had been a brief aside focusing on forensic pathologist Pimmy Jalmer, his lover, Special Agent Zhe, and their torrid love affair.

Maybe this would appease Jimmy. After all he had felt pretty bad about Jimmy getting so angry. He knew that the man liked Agent Lee, he had certainly talked about her enough. He knew it would never happen in real life, so maybe this would help mend fences with Jimmy. And maybe he would sprout pointed ears and a magic staff would appear in his hands, too….

He dismissed his doubts and refocused his efforts on exploiting the crack in his block.

"Okay, now back to the main event," he said aloud. More furious typing. Then deciding he needed a break, he stopped and looked at what he had.

"Agent Lisa pulled Agent Tommy closer to her. Their body heat intermingled. 'Are you all right?' she murmured to him.

'Uh, yeah, thanks…' Tommy didn't know what to say next as they looked into each others eyes.

Tommy's lips hungrily descended toward Agent Lisa's…."

Tim pulled the paper from the manual typewriter so fast that it made a zipping sound as the sheet rolled free. "Tony and Ziva would never let me live this down, and Ziva *would* kill me…."

Tim stood staring out his efficiency apartment's bay window, meerschaum pipe clenched in his teeth, hoping some bit of inspiration would strike him…nothing. He glanced over at the clock. It was 10:20 in the morning. This was not going well at all.

Maybe it was that polygraph test all of them had been required by Homeland Security to take, administered by FBI Special Agent Fornell. That shook him up pretty bad. What did they expect to find out by testing them?

His mind switched to a more pleasant thought. That of Tony seeming to sweat bullets about taking the test. Tony had asked Fornell at one point if this was really necessary. He remembered the FBI man's deadpan response. 'Yes Duh Nutso, it's really necessary.'

Still smiling from that little scene, his mind began to probe darker thoughts. So just why was Homeland Security testing them? Was there something they knew that Gibbs didn't? That idea intrigued him.

As his mind mulled over that thought, his muse said 'now there's something you can work with….'

"Yeah," he said aloud as he crossed over to his typewriter and sat down. "What if there is…a traitor…in NIS?"

The more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea. Someone betrays the team. Someone they would never suspect. Someone that put Special Agent McGregor, L.J. Tibbs, Amy Sutton…all of them in trouble.

Tim hastily began typing. Okay, he knew he wanted a traitor, but who? Then it hit him. How about someone nobody would ever suspect?

"'Tibbs,' Agent Tommy said weakly.

'Tommy, you *were* my best agent,' the hurt and anger could clearly be heard in Tibbs' voice."

Tim stopped typing. No, he couldn't do that to Agent Tommy.

No, it had to be someone who was part of the team, but was enough of a lone wolf to do something like this.

"'I'm sorry Tibbs,' Agent Lisa said quietly, 'I should have told you before now…' her head was slightly bowed, tears were starting to trail down her face.

Agent Tibbs' face was like stone. No one his unit had ever betrayed him before. Not like this. 'You're damn right you should have told me before now…'"

Tim sat back and surveyed the words on the page. "That's it! Ziva will hate me, but oh, that is soo good." He quickly began typing again. "Okay, let's see…maybe I should have Agent Lisa not crying when she confesses to Tibbs…."

He thought about that for moment and then nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds more like her. "Her voice is cracking…she's sorry, but Tibbs will have none of it…."

Then he stopped again. No, he just couldn't do that to Ziva, er, Agent Lisa. Maybe someone close to Tibbs….

"Director Bereford sat down hard in her chair. She looked up at a stern L.J. Tibbs.

'You knew?' she said in a quiet shocked voice.

'Chelsey,' he said quietly, a hint of gentleness. Gentleness reserved for a former partner. 'we used to work together, you didn't think I would find out?'

'I-I don't know what to say….'"

Tim looked at the sentence for a few minutes. Then he shook his head, but not because it wouldn't work. 'Neither do I, Chelsey.'"

It was good. He definitely could get a couple of more pages out this.

He just hoped that Director Shepard wouldn't see herself as NIS Director Chelsey Bereford.

Now he was on a roll.

- Fini


	5. Chapter 5  A Day of Reckoning

NCIS

Title: "A Day of Reckoning"

Author: txncistn

Email:

Rating: G/PG [some language, violence, etc.]

Classification: A dash of Hart, Esquire and Gibbs; a pinch of Abby and Tim; a bit of Tiva; and some special guests [NCIS: LA] for flavoring.

Spoilers: Anything from Seasons 1-7 but in particular – Heartland, Legend parts I, II, Outlaws and In-Laws, Borderland, Patriot Down, and Rule Fifty-One.

Summary and Author Notes: A vignette about events of Friday afternoon, May 28, from meeting of Paloma and Jackson Gibbs in his store, forward. The resolution of events from the Season 7 finale will probably not be as rosy as this little story. Still, this is how I would like to see things turn out. Color me an optimist….

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Shane Brennan, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of NCIS fans only. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

~Phoof~ Black and white image of Gibbs smiling as he walks out the door of his house.

Jackson Gibbs smiled disarmingly at the pretty middle-aged Hispanic woman who had just turned the store's sign around so that it read 'closed'.

He tilted his head as he acknowledged her. "Obviously, you want to talk to me about something, miss, am I right?"

Paloma looked like a barracuda that was about to eviscerate some innocent prey. "Oh yes, Senor Gibbs, we have much to discuss…"

Gibbs sat on the chair next to his dusty box spring and mattress. He stared at his recently added Rule #51 'Sometimes – You're Wrong'.

The silver haired senior NCIS Agent leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, hands clasped behind his head. How long had it been since he had actually sat in this room, months? Years?

Seeing the closed and taped boxes piled around the room reminded of him of why it hurt too much to stay in this room very long. Too many painful memories. He could see in his mind's eye flashes of him and Shannon wrestling in bed, Kelly running in on Saturday mornings to get them up early…Too painful.

He sighed; he really hoped that he had read Margaret Allison Hart, Esquire right.

He could see her walking away from him after tapping Abby Sciuto's report on the table in front of him.

'Speaking as an officer of the law, I think we can beat it…'

"Well, it seems you have me at a disadvantage, Miss –"

"Reynosa…Paloma Reynosa, Senor Gibbs."

Paloma sized up her prey. They were all the same; first they would plead, then they would bargain – in the end it really didn't matter. It always ended the same. She had done this many times before. But his death wouldn't come just yet. He would be an excellent bargaining chip to keep Special Agent Gibbs in line.

As Paloma was about to pull out her silenced automatic from her raincoat's specially modified pocket, the door to the store opened and the bell announced that someone was coming in.

Paloma took her hand off her gun as the local Sheriff walked in.

Ed Gantry took stock of the situation. Woman wearing a raincoat in sunny weather, Jackson looking a little ill at ease. He gave his friendly local bumpkin Sheriff smile. "Afternoon, ma'am. Jackson, it's a little early for closing, you feeling all right?"

"Oh sure, just fine, but I think Ms. Paloma Reynosa, here could use an escort back to Washington, DC."

Before Paloma could react, the bumpkin Sheriff had *his* automatic out. "Sure thing, Jackson. Miss Reynosa, if you would be so kind as to take your hands away from your pockets, please."

As she started to raise her hands, one of Ed Gantry's Deputies rushed in through the door with a pump-action shotgun pointed right at her.

Gibbs old mobile phone rang. He reached over and grabbed it.

"Yeah, Dad?" he said a little too anxiously.

The calm somewhat embarrassed chuckle on the other end spoke volumes. "I ran into that friend of yours who you told me about…Ms. Reynosa," "She's on her way to you, son…under armed escort."

Leroy Jethro Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief but prayed his Dad couldn't hear him. "Thanks Dad."

"You're welcome, Son."

Ziva David was trying to enjoy the moment. She was, at last, an American citizen. All of her new friends were here…except Tony and Gibbs.

"Congratulations, Ziva…" The NCIS Medical Examiner said as he embraced her in a loving hug.

"Thank you, Ducky."

As they embraced, the former Mossad agent thought about possible reasons for their not being present. She had really hoped they would show at the last minute. With Gibbs having just returned from Mexico after looking for Mike Franks and not finding him, it was likely he'd gone back. As for Tony, Director Vance did ask him-

"Ziva! Ziva! You did it!" Abby almost bowled Ziva over with her hug. Ziva chuckled at Abby's infectious enthusiasm .

"Thank you, Abby…." she said warmly, as her thoughts went back to Leon Vance asking Tony to stay after meeting with them last night. Maybe that was the reason—

"Good work, Ziva…"

Ziva retuned his hug. "Thanks, Tim," Tim McGee had certainly gained more confidence in the last few years. Maybe it was Gibbs tutelage, though to her he would always be the shy, slightly nerdy, young man she found so endearing.

"So how does it feel to be an American citizen?" Jimmy Palmer asked as he too gave her a brief hug.

Ziva chuckled again, "Pretty good, actually…" She was certain now that Leon Vance had something to do with their disappearances. She really needed to talk to Leon as soon as she could.

Then she spotted him. Jimmy had gone on talking about something about why his date had cancelled out at the last moment. Ziva looked up and gave him a brief smile. "Would you please excuse me?"

"Oh, of course, Ziva…." Jimmy said knowing that Ziva had pressing business and was trying to be polite.

She walked directly over to Leon Vance and his wife, Jackie. They had been talking to a newly naturalized citizen who until today had called Venezuela her home.

"Director, Mrs. Vance."

Leon turned and smiled, "Congratulations, Ziva."

"That goes double for me, Agent David…." Jackie added.

"Thank you ma'am" Ziva swiftly turned the conversation. "Director, could we talk for moment?" The former Mossad agent asked as nicely as she could muster at the moment.

Leon turned to the Venezuelan woman and his wife, "Would you ladies please excuse me?"

"Of course, Honey…" Jackie said. The Venezuelan woman nodded politely and smiled.

They walked over to an isolated corner of the room, both standing side by side.

"So where are Tony and Gibbs, Director Vance?" Ziva said coolly as she kept her face turned to the crowd.

"That's need to know, Special Agent David." Leon Vance replied curtly as he took a sip of his drink.

"And I need to know, Director, because Tony is*my partner* and Gibbs is my boss." Ziva fired back while maintaining a smile on her face as she looked over at her friends.

"I know how you feel about both of them, Ziva" Leon replied in his no nonsense tone of voice.

The former Mossad turned for the first time to face the NCIS Director. "Do you?"

Leon shook his head. "I'm the Director of NCIS, Special Agent; there isn't much that goes on in my Agency that I don't know about-"

"-Then you know I should be out there with them." Ziva said forcefully.

Leon sighed. "I couldn't let you do that, Special Agent David. Besides you can't be in two places at once—

"Two places-? Director, where is Gibbs?"

"Right behind you, Agent David…"

Ziva turned to see a dapper looking Leroy Jethro Gibbs dressed in a charcoal grey suit, cobalt blue shirt and red tie entering the room with M. Allison Hart, former attorney for Colonel Merton Bell, COO of First Defense PMC.

"Sorry we're late," Allison explained.

"Gibbs, you missed the ceremony!" Abby said admonishing her boss.

"I'm here now, Abby…." Gibbs said by way of an explanation as he gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Is everything all right, Boss?" Tim asked with a serious tone in his voice.

"Everything's fine, McGee," The senior NCIS Agent said swiftly cutting off the Probie Agent. He walked over to where Donald Mallard, M.E. was standing and observing as the head of the DC Major Case Response Team and Hart, Esquire had entered the room.

"Ducky," Gibbs said as a way of greeting his old friend as he grabbed a drink from the table.

"Jethro," Ducky took a sip of his drink. He still hadn't forgotten how Gibbs had snubbed him in their last meeting.

"Duck, before you start, this is my problem and I'll handle it my way, all right?" Gibbs was admitting he was wrong to treat his best friend that way, but he wasn't ready to accept any help, either.

"Is M. Allison Hart part of your solution, Jethro?" Ducky inquired.

Gibbs nodded as he took a sip of his drink. "She is Ducky; do you understand?"

Ducky nodded as he took another drink. "Ah, indeed I do, Jethro, indeed I do."

"Ms. Hart, Gibbs"

"Director Vance," Allison returned.

Gibbs looked at Leon Vance for a moment and then nodded.

Leon looked at his wife. 'I'm sorry, Honey, would you excuse me for a moment? I need to make a phone call…"

Over in another corner of the room, Abby was talking in hushed tones with Tim.

"I don't get it, Tim," Abby said shaking her head. "I did as Gibbs asked; I gave Ms. Hart Alejandro's copy of my report…."

"All I can tell you, Abby, is that Alejandro Rivera never received your report."

But Abby wasn't ready to concede that the report had just gotten lost. "But I sent it directly to him and to Director Vance, how could that happen, Tim?"

Tim was about offer his theory when Allison stepped in to join their conversation.

"That is probably my fault, Ms. Scuito, but I'm the one who intercepted your report to Senor Rivera."

"Why would you do such a thing?" the Goth Forensic Specialist asked somewhat suspicious of Ms. Hart's motives, "You're working with the Joint Task Force-"

"Because I had to see for myself what I was up against if I'm going to properly defend my client, Ms. Sciuto."

"Your client?" Tim repeated not believing what he was hearing.

"You've taken on Gibbs as your client?" Abby said with more than a little surprise in her voice.

Just then Leon Vance walked up. "She has, Special Agent McGee, is that a problem?"

Tim didn't want to challenge the only man who had appreciated his computer skills. "Uh no sir, of course not…"

"Which means you're going to have to discredit *me*,' Abby said solemnly.

"Only if I have to, Ms. Sciuto." Allison explained in her best attorney tone. "My main goal is to protect my client."

Abby grabbed the surprised attorney in an impromptu hug, "Then I wish you the best, Ms. Hart."

Mike Franks walked through the mid-day crowd focusing on his target, Alejandro Hernandez Rivera.

"Alejandro Rivera!" Mike called out. Several people looked at the Mexican Justice Department official and then back at the bedraggled bandaged gringo moving toward Senor Rivera.

Alejandro smiled and turned around. "Senor Franks! Thank goodness you're alive! We've looked for you-"

"Yeah, I know; you were looking for me and my family…that's why I hid them away, so that you can't find them!"

Rivera feigned ignorance as he sized up his opponent. "I don't understand what you're saying Senor Franks-" Several people on the plaza began to back away from these two men. It was obvious there was going to be a confrontation, most likely bloodshed.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Senor Rivera, or should I say Senor Hernandez?"

The smile washed away from Alejandro's face when he heard his birth name used. "It is too bad that Colonel Bell and his men could not capture you, Senor Franks…"

Former NIS Agent Mike Franks gave his opponent a dry rusty laugh. "Oh I'm sure they would have, had your Lieutenant Dean not jumped the gun and killed him and his men. By the time he got back to checking on me, I was gone."

Alejandro let his eyes drift ever so slightly up to the windows of the building behind Franks. "…and don't bother checking with your men on where my daughter in law and granddaughter are. Shada Shakarji and her bodyguards are very adept at fending off any would be attackers…they're from Iraq, you know, and they know how to handle hostiles. "

Alejandro smiled and spread his hands in supplication. "So I guess that you hold all the cards, Senor."

(That's right, move a little closer to me, you old wizened gringo…)Alejandro mentally urged his adversary. The Mexican Justice Department official already had snipers in place, watching him. All it took was to tell his superior that the Reynosa cartel had put a hit out on him and he was given carte blanche to resolve the problem.

Mike was sizing him up as well, "That's right, Alejandro, I do."

As Tony watched the developing confrontation, he knew that if he were in Alejandro's place, he would have snipers stationed all around the plaza ready to take out Franks, if necessary.

(Now where would the guy in charge be?) The former Baltimore police detective focused on Senor Rivera's face, hoping that he would betray him by looking, even briefly, at him.

(There!) Tony saw Alejandro's eyes flit briefly to the balcony above him. As Mike continued to verbally spar with Alejandro, Gibbs' Senior Field Agent searched for and found the stairwell. Quietly, he went up the stairwell.

(Now how would Ziva approach this?) He thought as he reached the second floor landing. (That's easy, in the old days she'd just put a bullet in the guy's head and be done with it…but now, she'd use a little more finesse…I can do finesse….)

The Federale Police Captain held his walkie-talkie close. (Senor Rivera was right, the old man did show up just like he predicted…) "Sergeant, do you have him in your sights?" The Captain asked a rooftop sniper just across the plaza.

"Estoy listo, Capitan…." The sniper replied.

Tony slowly silently came up behind the Captain and stuck his automatic to the back of the corrupt officer's head. "Tell your men, Capitan, to stand down, do it now." he said with steel in his voice. (Wow) Tony thought (I sound just like Stringfellow Hawke.)

The Mexican Federale police Captain thought about his options. There weren't that many and he really didn't want to die for Alejandro Rivera. He nodded silently and clicked the push to talk button on his handheld radio. "All units; lower your weapons…." he said quietly.

In the darkened computer room, OSP Operational Psychologist Nate Getz took the note handed to him, nodded and then looked over at OSP Technical Specialist Eric Beale who was monitoring a bank of monitors. "Special Agent DiNozzo was able to convince Capitan Suarez to cooperate."

Eric smiled. "Great! That makes our job a lot easier," He quickly switched communication nets. "Callen, the police tactical teams are standing down, you are clear to engage…"

"Copy Eric…"

"Whatsa matter, Senor Rivera? Your snipers get a case of cold feet?" Mike taunted.

Alejandro looked around and then smiled again. "Well I guess that I am at your mercy, Senor Franks."

"You bet you are…" Mike said grimly as he moved his hand downwards.

Suddenly a flurry of gunshots rang out on the plaza, causing everyone there to scatter. Alejandro slumped to the ground, dead. From behind cover, emerged three armed non-descript looking tourists.

"Are you all right, Mr. Franks?" OSP Special Agent Kensi Blye asked Mike Franks as she kept her weapon trained on Alejandro's unmoving form.

Mike was grimacing as he held his arm. "Yeah, yeah; I'm fine. Guess I can't fire fast enough without my trigger finger after all;" he groused, "he just winged me; took you three long enough to get here…"

"We were watching you the whole time," Callen replied.

Mike gave the bald tourist in the loud Hawaiian shirt a sideways grin. "Just like in Moscow, eh, Callen?"

G Callen gave the older man a wry grin. "Like old times, Mike"

Former SEAL Sam Hanna examined the body, feeling for a pulse and then spoke into his radio mike. "Alejandro is secure; all units stand down…"

Leon Vance looked out his window at NCIS Headquarters. All in all, it had gone pretty smoothly. It was unfortunate that Alejandro Hernandez had to be killed, but better him than Mike Franks or anyone else. Besides, they still had Paloma and she would yield a lot of valuable info on the Reynosa Cartel. "Thanks for the use of OSP resources, Hetty" he said into the speaker on his desk.

"It was my pleasure, Director." Henrietta 'Hetty' Lange replied with the precise sincere manner of which she always seemed to have a bottomless reservoir.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was getting dressed up for the second time this week. The Board of Inquiry hearing was pro forma, but he had insisted on going through it. Shannon and Kelly would have wanted him to do this. And he would feel as if he were betraying his team if he didn't.

"Are you ready, Special Agent Gibbs?" M. Allison Hart looked every bit the legal professional that she always did as she stood there in Leroy Jethro Gibbs' living room.

"As ready as I'll ever be, Ms. Hart." He started to toward the door with her.

"Wait; there's one other thing you'll need…"

Margaret Allison Hart leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Gibbs looked at her for an explanation because even though it was a peck, it held the promise of something more.

"For luck, Jethro," She said simply.

Gibbs looked at her for a moment and then smiled as they headed out the door together….

-Fini


	6. Chapter 6 Promises to Keep

Title: "Promises to Keep"

Author: TxNCISTn

Rating: G/PG [some language, violence, etc.]

Classification: Remembrance and teeny bit of angst – Gibbs and Franks

Spoilers: Swan Song, Pyramid. Also anything from Seasons 1-8, specifically Hiatus I & II, Shalom, Iceman, Judgment Day I & II, Outlaws and In-laws, Patriot Down, Rule Fifty-One, and Spider and the Fly. Also mention of the NCIS: LA season cliffhanger and Hetty's involvement.

Summary: Gibbs has another conversation with someone from his past.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of NCIS fans only. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

Rule twenty-six: 'When all else fails, get some rest.'

It had been a long summer. The Head of the Washington, DC Major Case Response Team had been planning to go down to Mexico and help his old boss, Mike Franks, rebuild his house - replacing the one that Alejandro's and Paloma's thugs had destroyed.

They had started talking about how to tackle the problem after Alejandro was in custody when the former NIS Agent broke the news to his Probie:

"I'm terminal Jethro…" he said giving Gibbs his usual flinty stare. "The doc guesses I've got about a year or so left…."

"You trust this doctor?" Was all that Gibbs said in response. He did his best to hide his shock and pain.

Mike took a pull on his ever present cigarette while nodding. "Yeah; he's seen to my needs since I moved to Mexico. I don't expect an American doctor would tell me any different."

Gibbs nodded silently. He understood that recommending that Mike see a specialist here was out of the question.

"What do you need Mike?"

Mike gave him that well worn grin. "A favor, Probie…"

And so began Gibbs' nine month mission in his basement. He put it aside while his Dad was visiting over Christmas and they built toys for the orphans. But when he alone, he worked at it … slowly, steadily, and with loving care; just like he had all his previous building projects.

He thought he would have completed it long before it was needed, but that was before the Port-to-Port Killer, aka, Lieutenant Jonas Cobb, made his appearance.

Mike knew that Jonas would kill Jethro if he got the chance, so he had to throw him off -and if he sacrificed himself in the process, well, it would be worth it to stop Cobb.

Gibbs though, felt as though he had lost a part of himself. Similar to how he felt now about Shannon and Kelly's absence. Rather than trying to cheer him up, Tony and the others had given him his space.

All except Abby. She gave him a heartfelt hug when they got back to work after the funeral.

"If you need to talk…" she said tentatively as she stood facing him.

"I know Abbs; thanks," he said quietly while giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

Sleep was elusive. At work he felt like he was just going through the motions. Leon had casually suggested counseling…

"That was a tough loss, Gibbs, anyone would have been shaken." He said in a gentle, understanding voice.

But Senior NCIS Agent would have none of his pity. "Even you, Leon?" he said bitingly. He had meant it to hurt.

Leon's face hardened. His voice snapped as he glared at Gibbs. "Even me. Go see the counselor; don't make me turn it into an order, Gibbs."

Gibbs smiled that disarming smile of his. He wasn't about to take that advice, but he respected the concern. Despite his misgivings Leon Vance was a good man. "I'm all right, Leon, but thanks…."

Leon nodded. He didn't like what Gibbs told him, but he knew it would be like trying to make a carrier make a sharp turn. "All right; but if you start faltering- The veiled warning hung in the air.

Gibbs stopped, turned back and looked at the NCIS Director. His face was mixture of sadness and determination. "Yeah; I know, Leon, I know…." Then he walked out and closed the door.

Leon stood looking at the closed door for a moment and then sat down in his chair and sighed as he picked up another report to read from Hetty Lange about the Comescu family.

The cases kept coming. They always did. Tony continued working on the 'Special Project' that the new SECNAV had given him. Gibbs knew what it was, but he wasn't about to ask him anymore about it. This was Tony's assignment and if he needed help, Tony would let him know.

Still, in a way, he wished he could talk to…to someone…about how he felt. M. Allison Hart had moved on and he once even considered calling the former DC Madam, Holly Snow, but then decided that probably wasn't a really good idea.

So instead, he kept working on cases. And then coming home and diving into his latest building project – a new boat – something to honor the memory of all those who were gone.

One night, he didn't remember exactly what time it was, he simply put his head down on his workbench and let the whisky take hold… In the background he could hear that the farm reports had begun, which meant he'd have to get up in little while. But first, 'a siesta' as Mike would call it. Gibbs smiled at the reference as he drifted off…

"Ugh! You still lissen to those farm reports?" The hoarse voice complained.

Gibbs turned his head to the side, but did not wake. "Uhmmm…" he mumbled to no one in particular as he drifted back to sleep.

"Probie?"

Gibbs swatted at the voice. "Uhrum…"

"Probie!"

Gibbs snapped awake when he heard his boss's voice. It had always brought him to attention- just like his voice did the same to Tony. "Yeah, wha, who is-"

Gibbs' eyes flew open wide. He couldn't believe who he was seeing. "Mike!"

Mike was looking better than he had in months. In fact he was actually smiling. "Yeah, yeah, it's me," He said in his trademark gravelly voice. "What are you doing down here?"

Gibbs scrubbed his face. He needed a shave and his tongue felt fuzzy. He squinted at the image in front of him. "Well, what does it look like I'm doing, Mike?" he said somewhat irritated.

Mike looked at the overturned hull that Gibbs had been working on. "Looks like you're building another boat…." He said glibly with an unusual twinkle in his eyes.

"Nothing gets by you Mike," he said sarcastically, wanting to get back to sleep and away from this apparition.

"Hey, is that any way to talk to the dead?" The old NIS Agent warned him.

The words immediately pulled the Head of the Washington DC MCRT up short in a way no other words could. "Ah, no…sorry Boss." He said contritely.

Mike nodded. "That's better." He wandered around looking at the room "So is this what you're spending all your free time on, Probie?"

Gibbs really didn't feel like debating why he was building another boat. "Your point, Mike?"

"You need to get out more, see some senoritas. I remember when you were down in Mexico with me and Camila, she could never drag you away from 'your work'."

"That roof wasn't going to repair itself and you had asked for that hot tub, Boss."

Mike Franks chuckled. "Yeah I did, didn't I? And what else did I tell you?"

The silver haired Senior NCIS Agent smiled for the first time since Mike appeared. "You said 'we fill our empty spaces with ghosts….'"

Mike gave him a rusty laugh. "And mine would be naked women! Well, I only got part of my wish-" Mike looked as if he was being elbowed from behind.

But Gibbs didn't seem to notice. "Why are you here, Mike? I mean, you're dead and I got you killed..." He wanted to say he was sorry for not hearing the gunshots…sorry for-

"Don't give me any of that namby-pamby crapola Probie!" Mike snapped. "Jonas only speeded up the process! We both know that! Would you rather have seen me waste away like some shriveled up tomato?"

"No Mike, I wouldn't" Gibbs said, pain temporarily filling his voice. A part of his mind wondered if this is how Ebenezer felt when visited by his dead friend.

Mike though, had made his point and had already moved on. He walked over and sat on one of bar stools next to him. "I know it's been rough, Probie; that's why I came – to tell you to hang in there—and I brought some your friends to help…"

"My friends? Who?"

"Hello Jethro,"

Leroy Jethro Gibbs froze at the sound of her voice.

"Jen! Is…is it really you?

"It is Jethro." The former Head of NCIS and Gibbs old partner said quietly. "And I brought someone who's been waiting to talk to you…"

Gibbs couldn't believe his eyes. "…Shannon?" But if she was with Jenny, then she probably knew- His initial excitement at seeing Jenny turned to shame that his wife saw him excited to see another woman. How could he explain this to her?

Jenny gave him that worldly smile she had used on him a couple of times when she was the Director. "It's all right Jethro, she knows all about what happened and how you felt – about both of us."

"Shannon…honey, God…I-" Gibbs felt at a loss for words. There was so much he wanted to say to her. So much he wanted to share.

She smiled her understanding smile. "It's okay Gibbs; I know. And if I had been in your place, I probably would have struggled with the same thing."

He nodded. Shannon had always been practical. Seeing Jenny once again triggered a question that had bothered him since her death.

"Jenny, your Dad; is he-"

Jenny shook her head. "I don't know Jethro. The truth is, we haven't seen him; maybe that's one of the things you're supposed to solve. All I know is, and what I came to tell you, is that it is not your time yet."

"Not my time?" Was he dying? Maybe he had fallen in drunken stupor and hit his head. Maybe he was lying on the floor bleeding to death!

"She's right Gibbs. It's not your time yet."

The third voice was another he had sorely missed. "Kate?"

Just like the last time she visited, the ugly third eye given to her, courtesy of Mossad double agent Ari Haswari, was gone. He was really glad of that. She gave him a small embarrassed grin. "We're all here, Gibbs, and we're all proud of you."

"That's right Daddy, we're all proud of you." Chorused in another voice and it was one he would never forget as long as he lived.

"But Kelly, baby, I don't understand why you are so proud of me…I couldn't, I didn't - I failed you…" he turned to face all of them. "I failed all of you."

Now the Senior Agent felt as if he were on trial. His accusers lining up to tell their stories of how he had betrayed them.

Shannon though came over to him and put her hand against her husband's cheek. It felt warm. He was surprised by the warmth. God how he missed her gentle touch. "No you didn't honey; you did the best you could and in the end you brought those to justice that had killed us."

"And you still have others to catch, Jethro. Don't give up." Jenny added.

"And we'll be waiting Daddy; I promise. Do what you need to do."

Now Mike appeared again. "I'll take care of'em Probie. Now you got a job to do, so WAKE UP!"

Gibbs snapped awake. A soft country ballad was playing on his radio. He pulled his head off the workbench and looked around. They were gone. A part of him wondered if they had ever been here in the first place. Then he saw it.

He had never noticed it before. That is not before Mike had walked over and looked at it. It was a book. The senior NCIS Agent gently pulled it off the shelf and blew off the years of sawdust that had gathered on its well-worn cover.

'Famous Poems' The gold gilt letters said, standing out against the faded blue canvas on which they were printed. As he opened the book and leafed through its yellowed and stiff pages, he noticed it had a book mark – a bookmark…that Shannon had often used…. But when was she ever down here?

He looked at the words on the page. He had to wait for his eyes to adjust so he could read the text. He held the book a little further away and words swam into view….

'The woods [he could hear Shannon reading] are lovely dark, and deep. But I have promises to keep….'

"Do what you need to do." Mike's raspy voice intoned.

"And miles to go before I sleep." Gibbs said finishing the poem.

Gibbs looked at the boat. As he did, he could hear Kelly's voice now repeating what her mother had just said. 'But I have promises to keep…and miles to go before I sleep…and miles to go before I sleep.'

Just then his cell phone began to ring.

He walked over, unscrewed the jar from his workbench mount and flipped open the phone that fell out into his palm.

"Gibbs…"

Tim's anxious voice was on the other end. "Boss, Tony's in trouble; he's been shot…."

- Finis


End file.
